Scoring Misadventures #1

felix's picture

I have a personal line-in-the-sand - well, that's not a good descriptor, as I often cross it, perhaps it should be called a warning sign, or an alarm bell. Whatever you call it, I know to take stock when I find myself scoring at lunch time.
And last week, during the hell of Christmas, I found myself doing this not once, but twice in a row. I should point out that I only have a thirty minute lunch hour, and I usually score...around Greenslopes, which is a twenty minute drive from work. So just committing to score is committing to getting back late from lunch.
And that's assuming that the dealer will be there, open-armed and baggy-readied, when I turn up. Plus I most likely have to pick up girl S AND go to my chemist for my dose. So you can start to see why this is not the smartest behaviour.
Now the other week, it was the Thursday before Christmas I think, girl S had been paid at 1030am, or I had received a Christmas bonus, or both. She was on enforced three week leave from her work, which they enforce every Christmas, so she was not that keen on waiting the seven hours until I returned from work to get on. She cannot drive, and it was not hard to talk me into the trip, low methdadone doses and all the grunginess that goes hand-in-hand with that.
So we arrange to meet him at 1145 - then at 1115 I get a text saying he'd be there early, at 1130. I should have been smart, I should have realised no dealer is ever early. But like a fool I take off from work and arrive at 1128.
Of course he's not there. over the next thirty minutes, as my stress ratchets up and up, we keep getting texts from him - "Five minutes away!", "Dropped my wallet, have to go back", "Three minutes away" etc. He is a good lad in respect of keeping us appraised, unfortunately it falls down as the times are completely fabricated. Another fifteen minutes after his last "five minutes" text, we ring him and he tells us to drive to a nearby fruit shop and pick him up.
At this stage I am twenty minutes late back to work.
As we pull up at the lights around the corner from the fruit shop, we watch a cop car pull into the carpark opposite us. S and I exchange no words. We both know, in our hearts, that everything has just gone pear-shaped. Vast forces are conspiring against us for daring to score at lunch. The cop car doesn't park, noone gets out, it's just waiting, killing time.
Of course, as our light goes green, it exits the carpark and drives up the street towards our guy. We're maybe twenty metres in front of it, frantically giving cut-throat signals to him. We turn right instead of pulling into the fruit shop, and the pre-destined narrative fulfills itself - the cops pull up next to him.
They must have spotted him waiting earlier, perhaps he saw someone else on his way to us. Whatever the truth is, he is smart and doesn't run, he just ambles over to them and chats. We're a block away by now, just waiting for teh script to play out and for us to see him loaded into the back of the car.
But no. There is some luck in the world. We get a all from him five minutes later - "Where are you?" he asks casually, as though "Halfway to China" is not a reasonable answer. he asks us, get this, to come back and pick him up from the fruit shop. After asking if this is wise, we comply and scoot along. Into a back street, the deal is done, and the only car coming towards us is...a cop car.
But it's only a one-man car, and his had two cops. Luck holds again, we drop him off (at the fruit shop, where else), and find a secluded residential street, and shoot the century that does little to counteract the recent adrenaline surges.
He copes, as I used to , by downing Xanax like lollies.
I return to work over half an hour late, but the boss is on lunch, it's not fireworks.
So this is the reason I take scoring at lunch as a warning sign. Two days in a row suggests I need to change some behaviour, as I am putting high-risk before job security.
These are just a couple of the lesser tradeoffs you make when you find yourself addicted to a substance decreed illegal.